budding genius

I swear I did not pose this picture--just recorded it for posterity.

dissertation anxiety

The other issue that is bothering me--in addition to this--is that I have no confidence in my dissertation. I have an amazing topic that is very important to me and is pretty hot right now, and I know that this project has the potential to be great. But I do not have confidence in my ability to accomplish it. This is an unfamiliar feeling to me. Even setting out on a difficult and daunting project, I always know that in the end I will have done it and done it well. I can't say that about my diss. I know the questions that I need to ask, but I am really not certain that I am going to be able to answer them in any useful way. There are easier topics I could have chosen--topics that would make a good dissertation, even. But I can't turn my back on this one. At the same time, I don't know if I can do it. I have got to convince myself that is it possible very soon.

I've had a rough year

Nothing exceptionally terrible has happened--unless you count the miscarriage--but I have felt generally off for the past year. I have had several major external stressors, but I think a lot of it comes down to just not feeling right in my own skin. I was depressed last fall after RB weaned and I went to counseling for a while, which helped. My hormones changed because I stopped nursing and I also had to change birth control pills, which made things so much worse that I just stopped taking them altogether. I got pregnant (on purpose--not because I quit the pills) in March and then miscarried at the end of May, and that has been another hormonal upheaval. In the process I have gained 15 pounds. That's a lot of pounds in a short time. My body has been in so many different shapes since October 2003--I got pregnant, and then had a baby, lost all the baby weight, breastfed, stopped breastfeeding, got pregnant, got not-pregnant, and generally ate too much because I have generally felt like crap for a year. And I look like hell. Or at least like some other person that I don't recognize as myself. My weight has plateued--I'm not gaining anymore--but I have not been able to stick to a change in eating habits and activity that would allow me to get back to my normal weight. I just feel bad.

first day of school

RB started at her new school today. I've been making myself sick over it but it went quite smoothly. She hugged me and her Daddy and then took a teacher's hand and happily walked off with her. Last week we brought her for a visit so that she wouldn't be afraid of a place she'd never seen before. It seemed to have an added benefit--she had so much fun playing there that she was excited to go back today. I am relieved because she actually told me early last week that she did not want to go to a new school and did not want to make new friends--a surprising declaration from a two-year-old! That has changed now, as she has seen that her new school is a nice place to be. But I'm still thinking of it obsessively and will probably rush home to see her as soon as my class is over.

On a side note, I had an another interesting Google referral this weekend: "blog of a full time phd mother to a toddler." Guess what--You found me!

big and little

For two weeks, RB has been categorizing everything that she sees by size. I think that she has suddenly grasped the concept of opposites and of "big" and "little" and she is obsessed with it! The best thing that can happen in her day is to run across similar objects of different sizes--she literally yells, "Look, Mommy! Big chair! Little chair!"

I love how excited she gets when she learns something. The first color she knew was purple and for weeks she would seek out purple things and bring them to me. She wasn't even interested in other colors, just piling up purple things. Now that she knows her colors, she is on to size. She was stuck on numbers for a while, counting everything she saw, but I don't think that she understands the real concept of counting. Her little obsessions are funny. Come to think of it, though, I'm sort of like that, too.

Google referrals

You know what Google search has been bringing people a lot lately? "not smart enough"
Wierd. I wonder what's going on with that. What are you looking for?

And another question: Who is from Snook?

First "real" publication

Good news--a proposal I wrote has been accepted for an essay collection. I've had publications in a small in-house journal at my Masters institution, but this is will be my first "real" publication. It's not a journal, but, hey, it's something. And now I have to write the essay. It's not related to my dissertation but on an author of interest to me (not Flannery), and I have written an essay on this book before. So I'm not starting from nothing, but it will have to be a whole new essay. I felt really good about the proposal, though, and I'm excited. I am concerned about the distraction from my dissertation--I have already committed to a different project to complete my women's studies certificate and for which I recieved a small fellowship (yea!). That project is directly related to my diss, so that helps. There is a good chance that these extra projects will help keep me motivated toward my dissertation. I will have a sense of accomplisment as I complete projects, and I will also have to make an effort to make time for my diss work--I tend to be more efficient when I have more things to juggle.

There is one thing that worries me. My advisor and I have agreed (I think) that I should not try to rush into getting a diss proposal officially approved yet and to start writing as a way of coming to those ideas. Which is great for the way I work. But I want to apply for a fellowship this fall and I need a good proposal for that. So I really do want to push to get something out even though I would prefer to put it aside for a while. I am worried that I will not have the proposal I want to have by the time I need it. Then again, I could apply for the fellowship next year--but that implies that I will be working on my diss for three years. But let's face it. I will be. Might as well accept that now.

The Crazy Bear It Away

I'm on a teaching high! Today we wrapped up O'Connor's novel The Violent Bear It Away, and I've been pondering the class discussion for the past hour. Most students were actively engaged with the religious dimension of the novel and we had a great discussion about free will and determinism and theology and prophets and Satan. Great stuff. And some students, as usual, are resisting the religious interpretations of the novel, offering alternative interpretations--mostly psychological. This is something that has been going on and that I have encouraged throughout the class, considering O'Connor's essays in which she makes claims about the meaning of her fiction and then questioning whether the meaning is inherent or whether it is conditioned by O'Connor herself. Is it there because she says it's there? Or could it be something else altogether? And what is the point of the novel if they're all just crazy?

Interestingly, O'Connor's letters predict specific "misinterpretations" of her works, and those are the precise interpretations that my students have offered. They are getting it wrong in just the right ways! I have drawn their attention to those letters and reaction has been mixed. But the ones who are seeking non-religious interpretations are sticking to their guns. While some students play "Find the action of Grace" others play "Find the meaning that does not include Jesus." Which is great--I am not resisting that, and such questions are quite relevant to the state of O'Connor scholarship.

So here's what I'm left to ponder: How are these students so confident in non-religious interpretation when the central action of the novel is a baptism and every other word is Jesus, God, Lord, Almighty, Holy Ghost, devil, prophet. It seems that it takes a concerted effort to ignore those words. And if Christian mystery is not central to the meaning, what does it all mean? This is just a particular brand of crazy?

The resistance to religious interpretation up until now--when all we had read were the short stories in A Good Man Is Hard to Find--has been unremarkable because frequently Biblical allusions can be easily overlooked and references to Christ can be attributed to Southern manners. But not in this novel. It is a big job to intentionally avoid religion when the protagonist is called as a prophet and Satan shows up as a character.

on trying again

As I said in the previous post, the way I think about pregnancy is changed.

I was frustrated during the six-week holding period when I was advised not to attempt to concieve yet--like I was holding my breath for all that time. But that time was necessary for an emotional healing process. I mentioned that I was angry in the first few weeks and wanted to be pregnant again very badly. After a little time, I no longer feel like being pregnant again will make it all better--I no longer feel the need for the band-aid on the wound because I have healed since then. At this point, I do want to get pregnant, but I feel like it's okay if I do and it's okay if I don't. I actually have no interest in ovulation testing and charting and temping and all that stuff. When I got pregnant, I had a false sense of control because I had selected the due date for myself and, with the aid of an ovulation test kit, successfully got pregnant at the right time on the first try (again). Look how smug I am. But then it was over and all illusions of control vanished. (Very Flannery O'Connor, right?) So now I am ready to concieve again but not ready to set myself up for the emotional roller coaster of am I? or am I not? My husband also said to me that he doesn't want any testing or charting or planning. Just going about our lives and taking what we get. I think that those attitudes will change after a few months, at least mine will, but I like where we are now--not anxious to make something happen but open to it if it does.

But I have lost something important.

When I got pregnant, I was elated. When I was pregnant with RB, I was so afraid--I read obsessively, agonized over everything I felt and ate and heard. I would have invented things to worry about but What to Expect When You're Expecting took care of all of that for me (BTW, don't buy that book--really, don't buy it). And childbirth? How scary is that?! And what do you even do with a baby once it gets here--besides dress it up? But the second time, no fear. I was so confident! I had no desire to read a book or a baby magazine or pregnancy websites. I knew that I could handle childbirth--as long as there is an epidural in reach, I've got that covered! And I have been successful with RB, so I know I can get a baby from birth to two years, anyway. That's gone now. I know that if I get pregnant again, I will be anxious and afraid again. I'll over-worry and over-analyze. The immediate euphoria will be replaced with cautious optimism. Maybe that feeling will fade as the pregnancy advances. Who knows?

on miscarriage

Warning: Content is potentially disturbing.

It's been eight weeks since the miscarriage. This has been a really strange thing to deal with. In a lot of painful situations how to respond emotionally seems clear--there is an expected reaction and people respond to that expected reaction in expected ways. But I really didn't know what emotions should correspond with a miscarriage and people didn't seem to know how to respond to me, either. That sounds strange to say, but I felt it strongly.

I had a nagging feeling that something was not right--more than normal worry because I mentioned it to my doctor. I had my first appointment and had an ultrasound that showed the little creature and its little heartbeat alive inside me. And the very next day I held the fetus in my hand. I was at home alone when it happened, and I looked at it, telling myself out loud what it was--like I had to explain to myself what had just happened. That is an important detail to me because it is the image that appeared in my mind suddenly and frequently for weeks, and I had a physical reaction every time. Like I had run into something. Or like I was about to walk into that image and had to stop short to avoid it. I even turned my head trying not to look. When I came home from the doctor's office after I miscarried, I threw the ultrasound photo in the trash. I wanted to separate myself from it--I did not want to ever look at it again. Because then it would be like I lost a baby. I did everything possible to emphasize to myself that it was not a child but the idea of a child--the hope for a child--the potential of a child--that was lost.

But it is not an idea in that it will all go away if I can have another child. This was the hope for a specific baby, born at Christmas, when RB is two and a half. I had begun to think of myself as a mother of two, and now I am not that. When I fill out forms at the doctor's office, there will always be more pregnancies than children. I am not "dwelling" on the experience, whatever that means, anyway. But I am aware of it as a presence in my life that will be there always.

I don't have a lot of emotions about the miscarriage anymore. I feel a dim kind of sadness sometimes, but most of the time I feel not much at all. Just a kind of understanding that this thing happened. Right after it happened I felt depressed and sometimes very sad but the emotion that was surprisingly powerful was anger. I wanted very much to be pregnant and I was not anymore, and that pissed me off. I wanted to be pregnant again right away because it was very hard to be in the middle of all the plans I had made in my mind and then have to toss them out. It was just over. I was so angry about that.

And it was hard to talk to people--and everyone knew I was pregnant, so the topic came up. Most of the time I didn't want to talk about it and other times I didn't know who to confide in. When people heard the news, some responded as if it were a great tragedy, and it wasn't. That was uncomfortable for me. Others responded as if it were no big deal--"Well, you know, it's not that unusual."--also uncomfortable because despite the statistical frequency of miscarriage, it is a big deal to me. Of course, the response that was helpful (which I did get, too) was just quiet listening and "I'm sorry" and "I love you." Isn't that always the right response? Why do we forget that all the time?

But now I am good and not angry and not sad--at least not in the same way--but I am changed. And the way that I think about pregnancy is changed.

finally taking a breath (but a short one)

Sheesh! What a month! So I've now moved about half an hour out of town and am getting settled in, but I still do not have internet access at home. I've gotten totally out of touch with the blogosphere, but I anticipate return to normalcy any minute now. Any. . . minute. . . now. . . I have lots to report. I want to rave about my red kitchen. And rave about my class. And I also want to reflect on my miscarriage--I have noticed a lot of Google searches for miscarriage leading people here, and I have said nothing substantial because it was painful. But now I am ready to talk. I think it might help someone--because not long ago I was one of the Google searchers trying to connect. But not today because my day has suddenly disappeared and I must now retrieve RB from preschool.

P.S. RB is now two years old. And she LOVES the toy kitchen--she made me some pizza. :)

here we go again

Six weeks since the miscarriage, I now have go-ahead to try again.

getting back in the habit

It's been hard to get back in the habit of blogging, what with moving and teaching and financial agony and all.

So today I taught my second class--really the first REAL day of teaching because I never get past the syllabus on the first day. I'm not even one of those nice teachers who gives a brief overview and lets them go early. I just spend a really long time talking about the syllabus and assignments and how I want things to go. This class is very different from anything I've taught because it is a senior-level single author course that I have designed. I do have mixed feelings about teaching this class as a grad student. I am ecstatic about the opportunity and I know that I am fully qualified to teach it, having done extensive research on O'Connor. But I wonder how I would have felt as an undergrad taking such a class from a grad student. I am taking it as a huge responsibility, but then I always consider teaching a huge responsibility.

On the first day of class I asked what experience students had with Flannery O'Connor, and very few had read anything. I naively assumed that they registered for the class because they were really interested in taking it, but no, just needed some upper level credit. One student said that she had not read O'Connor but knew she was a Christian writer and so was very excited about reading her work. Yikes! O'Connor is not offering a kind of Christianity that one finds in--well, that one finds much of anywhere. If she's open, though, I think that this student can have a profound experience reading O'Connor.

So today I was nervous before class because I was prepared to deliver the longest lecture I have ever given--I tend not to lecture--but also because I was coming to them after they've had their first taste of Flannery. (No fewer than seven dead bodies for today.) They were shocked but most of them are still on board, and the discussion went well. This is a good location to discuss O'Connor because many of the students do know the Bible and are familiar with religious symbolism, even if they don't consider themselves born again (and about half the class was surprised that the phrase "Bible Belt" was coined as a pejorative term). A major theme of the class is the fact that O'Connor has been the most influential critic of her own work and the question of a writer's critical authority. I'm excited to see where things are going to go.

We're moving Saturday and are not nearly packed up. There is a promise of cable internet coming by the end of the summer and I think that the decision has been made to wait on it. These things tend to take longer than anticipated, but I'm still going to school every day to teach, so I'll have access. Come September there might be trouble.

We're taking it easy tomorrow; O'Connor body count is low.